


Bits & Pieces

by bluesuedeshoes



Series: Olicity Drabbles [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 04:05:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 9,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4290177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesuedeshoes/pseuds/bluesuedeshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>third set of oneshots and drabbles inspired by Tumblr prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Six

**prompt: **i would kill for some fluffy domestic olicity! maybe something about the birth of their first child?? like a hospital scene similar to the one in 3x01. OR another domestic scene with them just being lazy around her apartment/their future home and he's laughing at her trying to get to push up number 6?? pretty much anything fluffy to counter all of this angst would be perfect. THANK YOU!****

 

**—Six—**

“F–fooouuur,” Felicity grunted, raising herself into a sit-up position just as Oliver walked in the room, an amused grin on his face as he leaned in the doorway and folded his arms to watch her.

“Don’t strain yourself now,” he warned, mirth dancing in his eyes.

Felicity tried to ignore him as she wheezed out the number five.

“Seriously, I’d hate for you to over-do it.”

She couldn’t help shooting him a glare from the floor.  “Sh–shut up, you,” she said weakly, grunting as she attempted one last sit-up before collapsing back to the ground.  Finally.  Finally she’d made it to six sit-ups in the time it took the stupid Pilates lady on the DVD to do ten.  Felicity had grown to despise that woman.

She was staring at the ceiling when Oliver’s head appeared above her, his lips pressed together in an obvious attempt not to laugh.  Her gaze lowered to his toned pecs, sculpted biceps and triceps, and utterly ridiculous abs.  The mere sight of those abs was almost offensive at the moment.  “Hey,” he said, offering her a hand to help her up to her feet.

When she was standing, her attention drifted from Oliver’s unfairly ripped torso to his face, and she noticed that his hair was a little messy from sleep, and he was looking at her with bedroom eyes that made her stomach do little flips.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” he smirked, leaning down to kiss her softly.  After a pause he let his mouth drift across her jaw to nibble lightly on the cuff of her ear.  “So,” he said at length.  “I have a suggestion.”

She grimaced.  Great.  Work-out tips.  She hated it when he did that. 

“Oh?” she said tightly.

“Yeah.  Forget Pilates.  I know a _much_ better way to get a workout,” he said, tugging her back in the direction of her bedroom.


	2. Cold Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Can I ask for a "one of them has cold hands and the other warms them up" fic? I'm feeling nostalgic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amadaecs, I don't know if you have an AO3 or I would dedicate this one to you. I just love that I know the story behind this one. So sweet. :)

Her hands always felt like ice.  It was one of the downfalls of working at a computer.  Blood drains from your hands when you sit at a desk with your hands on a keyboard for too long.

It had been such a regular part of her life for so long that Felicity didn’t even notice it anymore.  Just subconsciously rubbed her hands together to create a little much-needed friction-heat as she got ready to go home for the night.  She didn’t give it much thought.

Until the one time she did.

It was about one month after their trip to the island to imprison Slade.  About one month after Oliver defeated him.  One month after Oliver looked her in the eyes and claimed he loved her.

And she kept catching him giving her little glances, little looks out of the corner of his eye.  His hand would twitch sometimes, like he was resisting an impulse to touch her arm or shoulder.  She didn’t know what to make of it sometimes, but a little voice that appeared to be strongly connected to her heartstrings had its suspicions.

So, one day, as she was shutting down the computer at the end of a quiet day at the end of a quiet week, she leaned back in her chair and rubbed her hands together for a second, trying to warm them while she watched Oliver put up his bow and quiver.

“Need a ride home?” he offered, not for the first time, obviously trying to sound casual.

She smiled, getting up.  “Yeah.  That’d be nice.”  It definitely beat taking the bus.

He was surprised when he turned around to find her standing right next to him.  “Hey,” she said, smiling nervously.

“Hi.”

“So my hands are really cold,” she said in a breathless rush.  “Wanna warm them up for me?”

Oliver was so surprised by the statement he could only look at her, eyebrows in the air and mouth open slightly, before it finally sank in.  He scrutinized her face momentarily then dropped his gaze to her hands, one of which he hesitantly took in his.  He chuckled.  “They _are_ cold.”

She was grinning like a cheshire cat.  “What?  Did you think I was making it up?” she asked, lacing their fingers together as she started leading him toward the exit.  “Are you suggesting that I would make a pass at you, Oliver Queen?”  She glanced over her shoulder at him, eyebrows up in challenge.

Oliver sighed quietly.  “Never.”


	3. A Statement Piece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: OK ok ok I'm just saying that I'd give anything for a oneshot where the team somehow comes across a photo of MIT felicity in all of her gothic glory!!!!! :P luv ya

"Is that—“

"No.  No way!“

"It totally is.“

"I know she said she dyes it, but I didn‘t think—“

"Hey!“ Felicity said, and Oliver, Roy, and Diggle jumped in guilty surprise. 

"What are you guys doing in here?  I thought you went to wash up for dinner!“

The three men turned, Roy guiltily shoving the picture frame behind his back.  It was no use pretending they hadn‘t seen, though.  Mrs. Smoak had perfectly preserved her daughter‘s old bedroom, leaving everything in its place and in all its goth-punk glory.  They could pretend they hadn‘t seen the picture frames, but no one could pretend they hadn‘t seen the black walls, the bizarre and slightly dangerous-looking jewelry collection, or the assortment of clothing-from-another-era on full display in the wide-open closet.

"I—I—“ Felicity stammered, realizing they‘d just glimpsed a part of her life they‘d never dreamed existed.

"What happened to y—OUCH!“ Roy yelped when Oliver nudged him hard in the ribs.

"Right so…is dinner ready, then?“ Diggle asked.

Felicity nodded hesitantly, stepping aside and allowing the men to pass through her doorway, Oliver bringing up the rear.  He stopped to give her a once-over, a soft smile on his lips.  "This suits you better,“ he said quietly, "but I have to admit…the black lipstick definitely made a statement.“  He winked and continued out into the hall to head downstairs, leaving Felicity feeling flushed and dazed.  She ran her fingers over her lips, feeling like he‘d left them tingling just by talking about them, shook her head, and followed after him.


	4. Domestic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt 1: SAME ANON I CANT STOP: established olicity! Donna Smoak comes to visit for a holiday or whatever. And Oliver has an AMAZING relationship with her and he calls her Mom. Bonus Points if there are Olicity baby's and some Thea playing with them.
> 
> prompt 2: I NEED a drabble or anything on Oliver and Momma Smoak bonding. Now that they've officially met it could be before established Olicity or it could be after they're together or married or whatever idc I just neeeed it. They had almost no interaction in the show. WANT MORE

"This is weird…“ Felicity murmured, looking almost frightened of the scene playing out before her.

"What?“ Thea asked casually, coming up beside her with a small blonde bundle in her hands.  "Hey, there,“ she cooed to the baby, bumping noses with it and making a happy, scrunched up face at it.  The baby giggled.  "Hey.  Who‘s a pretty baby?  Who‘s gonna make all the other babies jelly?  That‘s right, _you_ are!“ she teased in a light, soothing voice.

"Well besides _that_ ,“ Felicity said, gesturing at Thea herself.  _"THAT_ ,“ she said more emphatically, gesturing dramatically at the kitchen, where Oliver was drying dishes and passing them to Felicity‘s mother.

"Oh, _Oliver_ ,“ they heard Mrs. Smoak laugh.  "What am I going to do with you?“ she teased, shoving Oliver‘s arm playfully.  Oliver blushed, but grinned, continuing whatever he‘d been saying at a normal volume.

"I don‘t get it,“ Thea said in confusion.

"It‘s…this.  All of _this_!“  She waved her arms around dramatically.

:I‘m lost,“ Thea deadpanned.

:This is the most bizarrely normal holiday I‘ve ever had.  It‘s so… _domestic_ ,“ she said in a hushed tone, as if the mere word frightened her.

Thea threw her head back and laughed, the baby in her arms giggling in delighted surprise as well.


	5. Hot Lava

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: drabble prompt: how about oliver and felicity (and the rest of team arrow, whoever you wish to be included) are WILDLY, WILDLY BORED at work. what would they do?

“Guys. This is so boring. I have never been this bored in my life.”

“Well find something to occupy yourself then, Roy,” Oliver snipped irritably.

_–Twenty Minutes Later–_

“Oh my God, I’m gonna fall!” Felicity shrieked as Oliver wrapped an arm around her waist, shaking with laughter.  She teetered precariously at the edge of the desk and he thought for sure her heels were going to do her in, but they both regained balance just in time.

“Keep moving!” Sara called from the medical table across the room.  “You’re not allowed to stop moving!”

“Who made that rule up?” Roy asked, awkwardly hanging from the salmon ladder as he tried to drag Felicity’s rolling chair toward him with his foot.

“That’s always been a rule to Hot Lava,” Sara retorted. “Since forever. Laurel and I played it all the time and you are definitely not allowed to sit still.”

“Oliver stop pushing me!”

“You’re not allowed to stand still; you heard her,” Oliver laughed, having played by the Lance sister’s rules most of his childhood.

With a wild jump, Felicity flung herself in the direction of Oliver’s green arrow jacket, which he had dropped earlier, and _definitely_ counted as not touching the floor, just as the door opened and admitted Diggle to Verdant’s basement.  He watched Felicity’s flailing leap, looked around at his teammates, all wobbling from the top of various pieces of furniture, and then shook his head.  “I just want to remind you all that I played hot lava with my _three year old_ this morning.”


	6. Pointed Remarks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Team arrow never have I ever :)

"Never Have I Ever…worn an all-leather outfit,” Diggle said with a smirk, and everyone in the group groaned, downing another shot.

“Oh come on that’s a cheap shot,” Laurel laughed.

Sara cocked her head and frowned. “Felicity…why did you just drink?”

Five more heads snapped in Felicity’s direction. She was red as a tomato and setting her shot glass down in front of her. “It was a Halloween party thing.”

“What did you go as?” Roy demanded while Oliver studied Felicity with intense curiosity.

“A dominatrix.”

An outburst of shock, laughter, and coughing followed suit while everyone passed around the bottle of bourbon for refills. Diggle nudged Roy. “Your turn, kid.”

Roy sighed, trying to think of something. “I know. Never Have I Ever _been stranded on an island._ ”

“Wait, wait—define ‘stranded,’” Thea asked while Sara and Oliver rolled their eyes, downing their drinks.

“Field trips with your brother don’t count,” Roy clarified, and Thea pretended to wipe her brow in relief.

“Phew,” she said, laughter in her eyes.

“All right, Oliver.” Roy gave Oliver an expectant look.

He smirked. Every turn so far he had intentionally created something that only Felicity had to drink for. “Never Have I Ever refused to tell someone my natural hair color.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “I hate you,” she groaned, picking up her glass. “I hate you. I’m so drunk.” She hiccuped again before taking the drink. “But it’s my turn,” she added, giving him a dark glare, while he grinned unabashedly at her. “Never Have I Ever been married in a secret ceremony by a cult of deadly ninja assassins which is totally not recognized by any country anywhere as legal.”

Everyone cracked up while Oliver poured and threw back another shot.


	7. And the Leather Pants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Felicity and Barbara Gordon (as Oracle) compare notes about their respective heroes. (Either Bruce or Dick for Barbara, or both, doesn't have to be a romantic context for them. Bruce might work better since he's so similar to Arrow's Oliver.)

“—and the brooding! Oh my _God_!” Barbara shrieked gleefully, martini sloshing as she slapped her hand on the table. Felicity doubled over with another peal of laughter.

“I mean, if it were an Olympic sport—”

“Don’t even start!”

“It’s just _unreasonable_ to be that grumpy all the time!”

“I know it!”

“But admit that it’s hot. It’s annoying as hell but _so_ hot.”

“Um, hell yeah! Drives me absolutely nuts. Dick does it, too, sometimes! He doesn’t even _realize_ how much he’s turning into Bruce! They both get this little wrinkle—”

“Right between their eyebrows!” Felicity finished, almost hysterical with laughter. “Oliver, too!”

Barbara squealed with giggles, amused beyond words.

“I mean, Babs,” Felicity gasped, clutching Barbara’s shoulder as she tried to contain herself, “the _leather pants._ ”

And as they burst into another uncontrollable fit, Bruce and Oliver exchanged looks. “We’re never letting these two get together again,” Bruce said. _“Ever.”_


	8. Tired Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Olicity back/shoulder massage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tweaked it to be a hand massage instead. Hope that’s okay! :)

Felicity was one step away from purring. Fifteen minutes. Fifteen solid minutes of just her and Oliver’s fingers and dear God, if every inch of her wasn’t just humming in satisfaction. She rolled over in bed to cuddle up next to him, kissing his chest and grinning.

“You know, you’re pretty good at that,” she joked, still slightly out of breath.

Oliver chuckled, shaking his hand out a little bit. “Is that right?”

Noticing his movement, Felicity kissed the top of his shoulder soothingly. “Aw, is your arm tired?” She was half-joking but mostly sympathetic. She could only imagine….

“Worth it,” Oliver shrugged, a lascivious spark of laughter in his eyes as he kissed the top of her forehead in response.

“Here,” she said, “gimme.” She pulled the over-worked arm toward her and slowly skimmed her hands all the way up to his shoulder before beginning to rub her way down the arm.

Oliver groaned in response. “Wow…how d’you…oh wow,” he trailed off, breathing deeply as she worked her thumbs along the muscles of his forearm, kneading deeply before gently rotating his wrist. The thing about pain is it takes someone who knows exactly how it feels to know exactly what will make it feel better, and as someone whose arms, wrists, and fingers were constantly exhausted from their time at a desk and keyboard, Felicity knew where all the sweet spots were. Oliver moaned a little again as she massaged the pressure point by his thumb before slowly dragging out each individual digit, gently loosening each of them. She grinned as a temptation hit her and she immediately gave into it, popping each of his fingers in his mouth and lightly sucking on them. “Jeez, Felicity,” Oliver sighed, still aroused from watching her orgasm moments earlier. “If you’re going to do this every time, I should finger you more often.”

Felicity laughed, her cheeks flushing. “Promises, promises.”


	9. Broken Dishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Clumsy Olicity :) almost as if they were cursed or something because of the amount of times they are tripping, slipping, falling and dropping things. Everyone is noticing it as well.

“Okay, that’s it,” Lyla said, standing up and guiding Felicity toward the table. “Would you sit down?”

“I’m fine, I swear. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“You’re just nervous because you’re trying to be such a perfect hostess,” Diggle said reassuringly. “We’re fine, Felicity. You know you don’t have to impress any of us.”

“Yeah, this has been a perfect Thanksgiving,” Thea chimed in pleasantly before taking a bite of pumpkin pie, nudging Roy.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” Roy cottoned on. “It really has been. And the food was amazing.”

“I can’t believe I’ve broken five dishes,” Felicity groaned. She reached for her glass of wine, and Lyla’s hand shot out to steady it before Felicity could actually knock it over. “I’m never this clumsy.”

“I know just how you feel,” Lyla chuckled. “When I got pregnant, I must have broken my entire set of coffee mugs. And I kept bumping my hip on the counter. Drove me absolutely nuts.”

Felicity stared, a look of shock on her face as she was clearly doing a mental calculation.

“Wait…did you just say…” Roy started slowly, looking between Lyla and Felicity in confusion.

Lyla frowned. “Well she’s obviously knocked up. Didn’t anyone else know that?”

There was a sudden thud and  a sound of glass shattering. They all looked up to see a stunned Oliver, who had just entered the room, standing over a slice of pecan pie forever lost to their carpet along with yet another broken dish.


	10. Lending a Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: AU: Felicity just went through a bad breakup and she meets Oliver (at a bar? laundromat? street corner?) and she knows it's going to be different with him. (I just keep basing my prompts on your real life, sorry ;-) )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what? Let’s just go ahead and name her ex Joey [because I’m a little bitch]. And you know what else? LET’S GO AHEAD AND MAKE THIS WHOLE THING A REAL LIFE TRUE STORY. LIKE LITERALLY THESE EXACT TWO SITUATIONS HAVE HAPPENED TO ME THIS YEAR AND THE SECOND GUY IS THE ONLY THING I WISH I COULD TAKE WITH ME NOW THAT I’M FINALLY LEAVING FLORIDA. SERIOUSLY HE IS SO AMAZING WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?

**—Lending a Hand—**

_Several Months Earlier_

“So I finally got my schedule sorted out next month to allow me time to get moved out of my apartment,” Felicity told Joey with relief in her voice, snuggled up with him on the couch while they watched The Avengers together.

“That’s good,” he said pleasantly.

Felicity waited a second, half-hoping he would offer and she wouldn’t have to ask. She didn’t want to ask. But he didn’t say anything, so she tentatively broached the subject, “So I was hoping…if you have time…that maybe you could come over and help me? At least one of the days?”

She wasn’t exactly expecting him to be excited, but she certainly didn’t expect him to roll his eyes and pull away from her, groaning. “Do I have to?”

She was so surprised she didn’t know what to say. His response was almost… _childish._ “I…well, no, of course not, but…I mean I don’t really have anyone else I can ask, and I really need the help.” _And you’re my boyfriend,_ she frowned, leaving the last bit unsaid. _I shouldn’t have to ask at all._

It was a developing pattern in their relationship: Felicity didn’t ask for much, and when she did, she got a lot of grief for it. He came through in the end, like he always did, but she couldn’t help feeling hurt by the way he went kicking and screaming. She tried not to be too demanding, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t being unreasonable.

_Present Day_

Felicity grinned, refilling the second glass of wine and passing it to Oliver. They had met about a month earlier at a Queen Consolidated office party and she hadn’t been able to shake him since. Not that I’d want to, she thought to herself, cocking her head to the side while she looked at him.

Things with Oliver…she’d been taking it slow. She hadn’t known what to expect from him or whether she should take him seriously at first. He had a reputation, and she was pretty much burnt out on men when she met Oliver. Breaking things off with Joey had been difficult but definitely the right decision. Over time, the little things she had at first brushed out had turned into huge things. He wasn’t there for her, and he was so self-absorbed he couldn’t see how selfish he was being. It finally got to be too much.

So when Oliver asked her out, she hadn’t expected it to go anywhere. She hadn’t thought he’d have the patience to stick around while she figured out her life. But he had a surprisingly steady presence, and she was getting more and more used to the feeling of his hand intertwined with hers, the sensation of his lips on her neck, and the soft sound of his voice talking her to sleep at the end of a long day.

“So what ended up happening with this apartment, by the way?” he asked as she shifted in his arms on the couch.

“I’m not staying,” she said happily. Her short sublease had been approaching. Originally this apartment was supposed to be temporary, as she and Joey had been discussing moving in together at one point. She had never meant to be in the tiny little apartment with half her belongings in storage for a full six months. “And I found a great place on Hamilton. I’ll be able to walk to work,” she sighed happily, looking forward to ditching her terrible commute.”

“That’s great!” he said enthusiastically, relieved for her. He knew how miserable she’d been in the cramped 1 bedroom.

“I just sent in the application this morning, so I’m just waiting to hear about the approval.” Her head was resting on the back of the sofa, and she closed her eyes sleepily, relieved that her life finally felt like it was coming together.

“When’s the move?”

“End of the month,” she said, taking another sip of wine and beaming. She was really looking forward to this.

“Well I’ll come over and help you pack up. I’ll bring boxes.”

Felicity’s eyes opened abruptly and she turned to look at him, a funny feeling in her chest. “You really don’t have to do that.” After all, they’d only been on a few dates, really. And she was going to hire movers. She’d learned her lesson after the last time. Besides, Oliver didn’t owe her anything. Of course she’d love the help, but….

“Of course I will,” he frowned at her, like she was being ridiculous for protesting. “I mean, why wouldn’t I?”

He said it so matter-of-fact, so _Well-duh-isn’t-this-obvious?_ that it sent her reeling into a flashback of an almost identical situation with her ex that had gone the exact opposite direction. For a split second she felt her throat tightening and her eyes burning slightly. She took the wine glass from his hand gently and set it down with hers on the coffee table before turning to him, taking his face in her hands and kissing him as hard as she could, because for some things, words just weren’t enough.

This…this was going to be different. Every moment spent with Oliver, she began to wonder why she had put up with everything she had in her past relationships.


	11. I Can See Why You Like Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Felicity just wants to study so please for the love of God can her upstairs neighbour stop the drilling and hammerimg omg it's been going on for a week now wtf are you building..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was writing this one and I was like, “You know what this needs? TOMMY.” Everything needs more Tommy….

“THIS IS RIDICULOUS WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?” Felicity yelled, banging on the door to the apartment above her. This was student housing. What the hell was someone doing with a power drill at this time of night? “OPEN UP RIGHT NOW I DEMAND AN EXPLANATI—”

She abruptly fell forward and into a very broad, very firm chest as the door swung open to reveal the occupant. Flustered, she extracted herself from the muscular arms that had caught her in surprise, and stepped back. She had sucked in a breath to continue ranting, but nearly choked on it when she saw whose door she had nearly kicked in. Oliver Queen. 

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding,” she groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Did you need something?” he asked, amused as he crossed his arms and studied Felicity. He’d seen her before. Only last year she’d had black lipstick and purple streaks in her hair. A lot of people hadn’t recognized her after her sudden makeover, but Oliver could always spot Felicity Smoak from a mile away. Not that it was usually that difficult. Usually she was stomping on his foot under the table in their physics course, forcing him to wake up from what was otherwise an excellent chance for a comfortable nap.

“Never mind!” Felicity threw her hands in the air, exasperated by the mere sight of him. “I came up here to demand you keep it down, but I know a lost cause when I see o—”

“What’s going on?” Tommy Merlyn asked, appearing behind Oliver in the doorway and holding a power drill in his hand.

“Tommy, meet Felicity Smoak. Miss Smoak: Tommy Merlyn.”

“Isn’t she the girl who turned your foot black and blue last week? Something about being under a table together?” Tommy asked, waggling his eyebrows humorously.

“Ugh, I give up!” Felicity groaned. “There’s no point trying to reason with a couple of neanderthals.

Tommy gave Oliver a questioning look. “I think your drill might have been disturbing our neighbor, Tommy.”

“Oh,” Tommy looked surprised, as though it had never occurred to him that building his very own beer pong table might disturb his neighbors. “Well I’ll keep it down,” he promised genially. “Why don’t you come in for a drink so we can make it up to you?”

Oliver looked quickly to catch the scathing look that passed across Felicity’s face, and he tried to bite back his laughter when she didn’t disappoint. “Some of us,” Felicity said, “have to study for exams. But I realize that may come as a surprise. Thank you,” she said with a hint of sarcasm. “I appreciate your promise to keep it down.”

Oliver closed the door after her and Tommy laughed. “Yeah…I can see why you’re in love with her. She’s great.”


	12. One Rule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Olicity and puppies :D

“If we’re keeping that thing, I only have one rule,” Oliver said firmly, while the chocolate lab puppy squirmed in Felicity’s arms. Its huge, pleading puppy-dog eyes were matched only by the ones Felicity was directing at him. “It doesn’t sleep in the bed. It can get on the couch, the chairs, whatever, but not the bed.”

_One Year Later_

“Hi, sweetheart,” Felicity greeted sleepily as Oliver climbed into bed with her, having had a late night at Queen Consolidated. Her arms slid around him as she cuddled up behind him, planting a soft kiss on the back of his neck.

“Hi, Felicity,” he greeted quietly. “Sorry to wake you.”

At the foot of the bed, a fully-grown chocolate lab roused himself and circled once, then twice on the quilt before curling up on top of Oliver’s feet, as usual.


	13. Red Light, Green Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: what happens after 3x23 as they're driving off into the sunset. Keep smiling ^_^

Oliver couldn’t stop glancing at Felicity as they cruised down the highway, the entire future bright and open for them both. Following an impulse, he drew her close and leaned over to plant a quick kiss on her lips.

Felicity squealed and pulled away, playfully turning his head. “Hey now! Eyes on the road when you’re driving!” she laughed.

Oliver chuckled. “I have this completely under control,” he said, stealing a quick kiss on the cheek just to hear her laugh and protest again.

“Oliver!”

He laughed, “All right, all right. But if you make that a rule, then I’m going to be pulling over every ten minutes just to kiss you and we’ll never even reach the county limits.”

“Well then here’s the rule: You’re only allowed to kiss me when we’re stopped at a red light.”

“Deal,” he grinned, immediately taking an exit to find civilization—and therefore stoplights.

For the next few months, it became ritual that every time the car stopped at an intersection, no matter who was driving, the person in the passenger seat would lean over, meeting the driver’s lips for a kiss, as passionate as possible for a matter of seconds.

They almost got arrested for public indecency when they got stopped at a train crossing in Coast City.


	14. Easy as A B C

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Things Oliver teaches Felicity - maybe about sports?

In the time that he had known her, Oliver couldn’t believe the number of things he had learned from Felicity Smoak. She taught him about life and living and true decency and heroism. She taught him how to smile again, how to laugh and not take himself too seriously.

So it was something precious and close to his heart whenever he could teach her something in return. It was rarely anything so dramatic or valuable as the lessons he had learned from her, but it made him feel good to add to her knowledge-base, to enrich her life in any way, however small. He made a mental catalogue of every one of those moments while they were on the road together, having adventures and simply existing in the world with one another.

The time they stopped in a sports bar and he explained football to her, what a “down” was and the difference between a touch down and a field goal.

The time he explained the physics and aerodynamics of zip-lining to her, right before they pushed off a cliff, holding onto one.

The time she agreed “just this once” to go for a morning jog with him, and he taught her the proper form for running so that she wouldn’t tire too quickly or injure herself.

The time he surprised her with his knowledge of the U.S. founding fathers and explained simply, “I had an 8th grade history teacher who was decent to me.”

Of course, none of it added up to much, but he treasured it anyway, and he knew she valued it as well. But the one thing he promised himself he would teach her every day was what it felt like to be truly loved by someone.


	15. Guys Like Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Oliver has said to Barry before that guys like them don't get the girls. What will Barry think, now that Olicity is a thing?

“Uh huh, uh huh, I see where you’re going with this story but I’d like to skip to the part where Oliver suddenly decided that guys like us _do_ get the girl,” Barry smirked, leaning back in his chair and swirling the coffee in his cup smugly.

Oliver rolled his eyes, his arm slung over the back of Felicity’s chair. Felicity’s natural first request upon leaving Starling was to go visit their friends in Coast City, and Barry had immediately dropped everything to buy them both a coffee at Jitters.

“What do you mean ‘guys like you do or don’t get the girl?’” Felicity asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at them both.

“Oliver said that to me,” Barry grinned. “He knew how I feel about a certain someone, and told me to give up on it and be miserable and brooding like him.”

“You said that?” Felicity demanded, shoving Oliver’s arm remonstratively. At the same time, she couldn’t help laughing at him.

“I did _not_ say it like that.”

“May as well have,” Barry sighed, mocking sadness. “And thank God, or I might have done something dangerous like be happy. I can see how poorly it’s working out for you two.” Even Oliver had to chuckle at the twinkle of amusement in Barry’s eyes.

In spite of the jokes, Barry could feel a small balloon of hope swelling in his chest as he watched Oliver and Felicity together. After everything those two had been through…it wasn’t just good to see them together and genuinely happy. It was inspiring. For the first time in a while, Barry felt a little more reassured that everything was going to work out all right for him, too.


	16. A Sure Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Matchmaker AU for current Arrow duos. (You have writer's freedom to take this any way you wish.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello you beautiful patient anon. I’m sorry it took so long to get around to this. I love a good AU in which Tommy is alive and happy. I went the Oliver-never-got-on-that-boat route, with the pair of them actually growing up together and becoming mature adults. But let’s be real, some things are meant to be, and I have a feeling that Tommy would be the first to spot what a great pair Olicity makes. ;)

“Who and what was that?”

“Who and what was what?”

“ _That._ Oh come on,” Tommy wheedled. “The blonde number.”

Oliver’s expression remained closed as he and Tommy made their way to the elevator. Tommy couldn’t believe it. The Oliver Queen he knew never missed an opportunity to appreciate a good looking woman. And the cute little IT girl with the Freudian slips and bright red lips? She was too good to be true.

“Wait a second,” Tommy squinted dramatically. “Are you blushing? Oh my God you are freaking blushing, man! Who is she?”

“She’s the IT girl, Tommy,” Oliver said in a desperately controlled voice, punching the number for the ground floor. “And I’m warning you, my Father thinks she’s the best hiring choice they’ve made this year. Don’t get her into trouble. She has a good future here.”

“A good…did you just…oh my God I can’t believe you said all of that with a straight face.” Tommy studied his friend curiously as the elevator sunk to street level. “But you two…all the chemistry! I thought I was gonna need a cigarette when we got out of that room!”

“All I did was ask her to repair a laptop.”

“That it was absolutely not my fault you dropped in a pool by the way,” Tommy reminded him, temporarily distracted. Oliver’s laptop had been sacrificed to the party gods the other night, much to Oliver’s chagrin. It had a work project he’d been working on for his father saved to the drive. When they got to the IT office, Oliver had been too embarrassed to say it took the dive at a pool party, and tried to come up with a lame excuse about spilling a coffee on it. Tommy’s brow furrowed even deeper. That was another thing. Since when was Oliver at a loss for a smooth excuse? Since when did he feel the need to excuse himself to a random IT girl? “Have you met her before?”

“Who?”

“Blondie!” Tommy said, exasperated. “Keep up, man.”

“Of course I’ve met her. She’s…around.” He gestured vaguely, as if that was supposed to mean something to Tommy.

“You dig her. Like…really like her,” Tommy accused delightedly. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Oliver almost forgetting to step through them as he floundered.

“Of course not! She’s just a valuable asset.”

“She’s definitely got some assets,” Tommy agreed with a snigger, struggling to keep up with Oliver, who now couldn’t seem to cross the lobby quickly enough. 

“So are you going to ask her out?”

Oliver shot Tommy an irritable look, pulling open the door to the limo.

“So you don’t mind if _I_ ask her out then?” Tommy asked delightedly, leaning into the limo. He’d never seen his friend so worked up over a woman. Especially a woman that he apparently had no intention of dating.

“Man, what did I _just_ say about getting her into trouble? She’s a nice girl. Would you get in here?” Oliver added in a huff, grabbing Tommy’s tie and yanking him into the car before giving the driver their instructions.

The more sour Oliver got, the more buoyant Tommy’s demeanor became. “Who said I was going to get her into trouble? I’m not the man I once was.”

“You mean the man you were last week?” Oliver asked dryly.

Tommy shrugged. “Melissa was a one time slip up. Admit it: We’ve both been settling down in the last year. We’re getting old, my friend,” he said with all the joy and humor of someone very much in his youth.

Oliver just folded his arms and leaned back sulkily in his seat.

“So let me know when you go to get your laptop back from her. I’ll come with and ask her to dinner. She’s way too cute to pass up on. It’s like this cute nerdy librarian thing, but kind of edgy—”

“Would you shut up about it already?” Oliver grumbled.

Tommy smirked, dropping the subject for the moment. He brought it up again later, though. And a few more times over the course of the next couple of days. A week later, he was not at all surprised when he saw Oliver out with Felicity at an Italian restaurant for dinner. Tommy had always been a sucker for a perfect match, and those two just _belonged_ together. How could he just sit back and do nothing? It had taken little-to-no effort, really. The one sure way to get Oliver to ask out a woman he liked was by making him worry that Tommy might get there first.


	17. "You Can't Leave"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "You can't leave" - you have full writer's freedom to take that any way you please (horror, comedy, etc.).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to write two separate drabble responses to this one—they're separated accordingly.

**DRABBLE 1**  
  
“Don’t you do this to me, Felicity,” Oliver whispered, burying his face in the hospital sheets at her side. His hands clutched her limp one desperately and he heaved a dry sob. “Don’t you dare do this. We need you. Your baby needs you…I need you.” He swore under his breath, breaking down into another sob. “Please,” he begged, not sure if he was talking to her or to God. “Please.” His voice was strained. “Felicity…you can’t leave. Don’t leave.”  
  
  
 **DRABBLE 2**  
  
“Wait! You can’t leave!” The said, grabbing Felicity’s arm awkwardly and spinning them both around in her zealousness.

“I…um…why?” Felicity stammered, confused.

“Because…of reasons…” Thea said lamely.

Felicity raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? What are you up to?”

“Up to? Who said I was up to something? I’m not up to anything?”

Felicity squinted suspiciously. “You’re acting weird. And I seriously need to go home. Look, thank you for buying me a drink on my birthday—especially because Oliver couldn’t be here tonight. It was really sweet and really fun but I’m exhausted and I have work in the morning. I’m leaving,” she said firmly, unclasping Thea’s hand from her arm and turning back toward the door.

“You can’t leave yet, though! Oliver’s throwing you a surprise party but then there was a bank robbery and it’s taking them all longer to set up than they planned because after the bank robbery there was a hostage situation at the police station and then there were broken train tracks and an assassin and _another_ bank robbery and oh my _God_ do you have any idea how many crimes  have taken place tonight?!” Thea demanded, exasperated.

Felicity blinked. “Seriously? They’re still not done setting up?”

“I…wait…you _knew?”_

“Thea, Thea, _Thea._ You know _first-hand_ what a lousy secret-keeper Oliver is.”


	18. Skin Care is a Necessity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: On that note (about the eye paint), prompt for F & O, situation: applying or taking off the paint?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon and I had a conversation about Oliver's mysteriously vanishing and reappearing greasepaint, particularly under his mask.
> 
> http://myherocomplex.tumblr.com/post/133729192576/are-we-all-just-going-to-pretend-like-the-black

“Listen, I know you’re trying to protect your manliness image or whatever, but look at you! You’re in pain!”

“I’m hardly in pain, Felicity. It looks worse than it is.”

Felicity scoffed. “Oh, right. Sure.”

“Man, I honestly don’t know why you’re fighting her on this,” Diggle interjected. “When you think about it, she’s definitely more of an expert than you or I.”

“I have it under control.”

“Oliver, your face looks like it has diaper rash.”

“It does not—”

“Oh, but it does,” Felicity cut Oliver off. “You can’t keep applying grease-paint that often to your skin if you’re not going to take care of it!”

Oliver sighed, trying to resist how endearing Felicity’s concern was and coming up empty. “Fine.”

“Oh thank God,” Felicity threw up her hands before steering him toward a chair. 

“Now pay attention because I’m only showing you all of this once. _These_ ,” she pulled a plastic package from her bag, “are makeup-remover wipes. Get to know them well, my friend, because you’re going to be seeing a lot of them.”

“They’re cold,” Oliver hissed when she began using one on him without warning.

Diggle chuckled from the corner, where he was cleaning his gun.

“Cold, yes, but far more gentle than soap and water. Now stop whining. When we get this off I’m applying some Vaseline.”

Oliver obediently stayed still while she removed the remainder of the greasepaint from the raw skin around his eyes. Eventually he had to admit to himself that there was something very soothing about the soft tips of her fingers delicately moving over his face.  And the Vaseline was a surprising relief on his damaged skin. Slowly, he began plotting ways to convince her to do this for him again in the future.


	19. "Don't Walk Away"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Use the phrase "don't walk away". Could be humourous or emotionally charged situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I flipped this one on its head a little bit and had a third party use the line. Also I haven’t written this kind of scenario in a while, and it felt kind of familiar in a good way. Gotta love the classic tropes.

“Hey, baby. Where you goin’?”

Felicity’s jaw ticked and she clutched her purse a little tighter, keeping her eyes set forward. She hated getting lost, and she’d managed to do it twice now coming home from her new job.

“Hey! I’m talkin’ a’you!” the man said more loudly while she attempted to get past him without making eye contact—or showing fear. But the man pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning on and fell into stride next to her. “Hey, don’t walk away when I’m talkin’ t’you, bitch.”

“Go away,” Felicity said, instinctively reaching in her pocket for her mace but coming up empty. She’d left it in her other coat.

He grabbed her arm. “Now that’s not very polite.”

“Let go of me!” She frantically tried to break his grip while he only yanked her closer. He opened his mouth but never got his chance to reply. Felicity felt a sharp rush of air past her ear, and a moment later the man was pinned to the wall by an arrow.

The next thing Felicity knew, a man in green leather and a mask was there, holding her assailant by the scruff of his jacket.

“Apologize,” he said simply.

“Hey, man, I ain’t lookin’ for no trouble! I—”

In one swift movement, her rescuer had the man planted face first into the wall, his arm twisted painfully behind his back. “I said _apologize_.”

“All right! All right! I’m sorry!” the man howled.

“Good. Next time I catch you, an ‘I’m sorry,’ won’t cut it. Understand?”

“Y-yeah! I got it!”

The man in leather released him and her attacker ran like a dog with his tail between his legs.

“Thank you,” Felicity breathed, frozen to the spot from shell-shock.

“You’re welcome. And welcome to Star City, Miss Smoak,” he said, aiming an arrow toward a roof top and releasing a cable.

She blinked. “How do you know my name?”

She thought he laughed, but it was hard to tell. “Let’s just say the Flash speaks highly of you. He also mentioned your penchant for trouble.”

Felicity barely had a moment to process this information before the man abruptly rappelled away. She watched him go in surprise. Apparently her move from Coast City to Star City had brought a new mystery with it.

She blew a wayward lock of hair out of her face. “I hate mysteries.”


	20. What He Didn't Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: a torn photograph

When Oliver first met Felicity Smoak, he’d thought he knew everything there was to know about her. He’d done all the research he deemed necessary, invasion of privacy be damned. “I need to know who I’m getting into bed with,” he’d thought.

Oh. The irony.

What he hadn’t anticipated was how little a background search tells you about a person. Her criminal history hadn’t told him about the trauma of losing her college boyfriend or the change it had incited in her. Her health records couldn’t prepare him for her stubbornness or her determination to force him to adopt a higher moral code. Knowing she was Jewish didn’t give him any insight on what Felicity’s mother would be like, or that he would one day be exchanging recipes with her over text-message. The fact that Felicity had grown up without her father present hadn’t prepared Oliver for finding all the photographs the man had been torn out of in Felicity’s childhood bedroom. And her school transcripts certainly didn’t forewarn Oliver that he would be falling in love with Felicity Smoak.

It was a lesson in assumptions: the important things about a person can’t be found in a database.

 


	21. Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: (setting only) favourite place you've been/traveled to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have to say: asking me to pick a favorite city or even country is like asking me to pick a favorite star in the sky. BUT, this particular country and this particular place in that country holds a special place in my heart.

“I knew we’d find it eventually.”

“Of course we would. The park is only so big.”

“I would have been so sad if we hadn’t managed to find this, though.”

“The palace was really beautiful, too,” Oliver said, cradling his arm around Felicity’s lower back as they watched a few children climbing on the statue while their parents’ took photos.

“Mmhmm,” Felicity agreed. “But this…this is special. I’ve wanted to see the statue of Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens ever since I was a little girl. Did you know they had the statue put up overnight so that the next morning the children walking to school would think it had appeared as if by magic?”

Oliver grinned at her, kissing the top of her head. “Been reading the tour guide books?”

She shook her head. “No, I just…I loved Peter Pan when I was really little. It was my favorite fairy tale. Flying, fairies, pirates…escaping to Never Land always sounded so perfect. I wanted it to be real for the longest time.”

Oliver looked at the statue of the little boy who never grew up thoughtfully. “Well let’s get a photograph or two. And then I’m dying for some lunch if that’s okay with you. We could get something from a patisserie and come back here to picnic if you want.”

She smiled up at him. “That would be nice.”


	22. Herding Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Because it's the holiday season, how about something involving avoiding mistletoe with certain people until the right person shows up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had fun writing this one. Threw in a dash of Merlance for added Christmas cheers!

Tommy looked up and shook his head. Felicity had unknowingly wandered beneath yet another sprig of mistletoe and he was going to be damned if he’d hung that stuff all over his apartment just for it to go to the wrong cause. Just as Ray Palmer was looking up and noticing the mistletoe as well, he called out to her.

“Hey, Felicity! Com’ere a sec!” he shouted, and Felicity glanced up, moving toward him before Ray could awkwardly point out the decoration.

“Hey Tommy, what’s up?”

“Just hadn’t had my Felicity-hug-fix yet tonight. How are you?”

Felicity laughed. “Given that this is my second glass of your very mysterious, very _strong_ Christmas punch, pretty well so far.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulder as he hugged her. “You?”

“I—crap,” Tommy pinched his nose, having spotted Oliver wandering underneath another sprig and Digg’s wife Lyla laughing as she pointed it out. “Do me a favor…stay right here,” Tommy said, cutting across the room to steer Oliver away.

But just as he was navigating Oliver in Felicity’s direction, he spotted Felicity and Sara laughing and standing below another sprig in the doorway—why had he thought so many of them were a good idea again?

“Yeah that’s great, Ollie,” Tommy said absently to whatever Oliver had said to him. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Thea had just walked over to tell Sara and Felicity they were under the mistletoe when Tommy threw an arm around Felicity.

“Hey, ladies! Can I borrow Felicity for a sec? Yeah? Thanks,” he said, pulling Felicity away in spite of her laughing protests while Thea and Sara looked at each other and shrugged. “Okay great, I—for God’s sake,” Tommy sighed, realizing he’d accidentally left Oliver by another sprig and Iris West was sidling in his direction, her eyes glancing at the ceiling. “Felicity, you should go talk to Oliver. Exactly where he’s standing. ‘scuse me a second, okay?”

He left Felicity sputtering in confusion and cut off Iris’s path. “Hey Iris, how’s it going? Have you met Barry Allen? Yeah? Y’know, not that I’m trying to embarrass you two but I’ve always thought you’d make a great couple.”

“I—”

“We—”

“Great. You two kids work that out over here, okay?”

Tommy brushed off his hands, leaving Barry and Iris in a state of confusion, before scanning the room for Oliver and Felicity. When he spotted them, they were finally standing together. Felicity’s face was bright red as she laughed, looking flustered and Oliver was gesturing at, yes, a sprig of mistletoe above them. He grinned and said something Tommy couldn’t hear before leaning in and planting a soft kiss on her mouth.

 _Finally_ , Tommy thought exhaustedly. _The things I do for that guy._

“Hey, Merlyn,” Laurel’s voice interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to see her with a devious gleam in her eye. “You’re under the mistletoe,” she pointed out, and Tommy looked up.

 _Well I’ll be damned,_ he barely had time to think before Laurel reached up on her toes to press her lips swiftly against his. He watched her walk away with his eyebrows up, resisting an urge to go after her but then giving into it, after one last check on his friends to see that they had apparently forgotten there were other people around and were engaged in a full-on make-out session.


	23. How

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Oliver teaching Felicity some domestic-y cutesy thing that she's always found frustrating.

Felicity sat on the kitchen counter, just far enough from the stove to be safe, and watched Oliver intently as he melted bacon grease in a pan, trying to figure out for the millionth time why her omelets were always omele-don’ts.

He reached for an egg and cracked it on the side of the frying pan and emptied it into a bowl. Her mouth opened slightly as she watched him do it again. “Wait,” she said. “How…how do you do that?”

“Do what?” he asked, confused.

“Crack an egg like that!”

He chuckled. “What? Felicity, you know how to crack an egg.”

She shook her head, hopping down from the counter. “I know how to crack an egg like a normal person, not like a contestant on The Next Food Network Star.”

Oliver was nonplussed.

“I have never met anyone who could crack an egg with one hand.”

He laughed. “Really? I guess I never thought about it. That’s how Raisa always did it when I was a kid. And how they do it on all the cooking shows.”

 _“Exactly._ They make it look so fancy on TV. I’ve never been able to do it without crushing the egg and ending up with tons of shells in the egg.”

“Well, Felicity Smoak,” he said, smiling his soft Felicity-smile, “I would be happy to teach you. C’mere,” he tugged her in front of him, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her ear as he leaned around her. She giggled quietly. “So first you take an egg,” he said,  letting her grab one from the carton before covering her hand with his and guiding it. “Now, the real secret is to crack it on a sharp edge, like the edge of the pan, not a round one like the bowl. Raisa taught me that. Helps minimize the little shards of shell.”

Felicity tried to focus on cracking the egg and not on Oliver’s nose nuzzling her neck and sending a warm flood of butterflies through her lower belly. She rapped the egg on the side of the frying pan a little too hard and it got smashed in her hand, making mess on the stove and her hand. She let out a frustrated sigh.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said patiently. “Clean up is for when you’re done cooking. Try again, but a little more gently this time. Just enough to put a little dent in the side.”

Felicity would have liked to have pointed out that cracking the egg wasn’t the tricky part for her, opening it was, but his presence was very distracting and apparently had her misjudging the applications of strength. But then his thumb swiped encouragingly over her hip and she forgot she had a point to make.

She had more success cracking the second egg, and Oliver’s hand guided hers over to the bowl. “Now _gently_ use the tip of your thumb to separate it. Slowly.”

Biting her lip to divert her thoughts from the soft scruff on Oliver’s cheek causing friction on her neck when he brought his chin to rest on her shoulder, she did as instructed and, with amateur slowness, pried the egg open and let the insides plop into the bowl.

She could feel his smile without seeing it. “Nice work,” he said, kissing her temple.

“Oliver,” she said, turning in his arms and wrapping hers around his neck. “I’d turn off the stove if I were you. The omelet’s going to have to wait,” she explained, pulling him into a kiss.


	24. She's Got A Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Felicity hummimg and dancing to radio but not noticing Oliver watching. Then joins her for a slow song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I’m broken-hearted trash because my ex-boyfriend, Pat (the nice one who ran away like a coward, not the emotionally abusive one) used to dance me around the kitchen and sing this song to me.

[—Listen to the song here to set the mood.—](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5djkVhLjw18)

* * *

 

As Oliver entered the house, the sound of the radio turning up louder than usual met his ears, and he followed the sound of Billy Joel’s crooning to the kitchen. The scene he found made him pause, an unconscious smile automatically touching his lips.

Felicity had slipped out of her flats, abandoned by the bar stools, and gotten distracted while making a cup of Ramen noodles for lunch. The kettle was left on the stove, undoubtedly cooling from it’s boil while she slowly revolved around the kitchen on her toes, dancing with an invisible partner, humming along to the tune.

 _She comes to me when I’m feeling down,_  
Inspires me without a sound.  
She touches me and I get turned around.  
She’s got a way of showing  
How I make her feel,  
And I find the strength to keep on going.

Unable to resist, Oliver toed off his shoes and quietly padded up behind her.

_She’s got a light around her,  
And everywhere she goes  
A million dreams of love surround her,  
_ _Everywhere._

He felt her start but then melt into him when he gently took her hands in his and placed one around his shoulder before carrying her through a slow waltz around the room. Neither of them said anything as she rested her head on his shoulder and continued humming along.For at least the millionth time that summer alone, Oliver wondered how he’d managed to get so damn lucky.


	25. Clever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Oliver hearing about the dessert proposal thing that straight people do and being slightly (inwardly) offended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made him outwardly offended because I am mad with power. muahahaha

“But how did you know I had already planned on proposing but didn’t? Maybe I was just keeping the ring until I decided on the right moment,” Oliver insisted one night, toying with the ring on Felicity’s finger.

“You know you’re a terrible liar.”

“Only with you. But come on. You didn’t say anything for months and then all of a sudden you knew.”

Felicity chuckled. “Well, actually, Curtis did say something that connected the dots.”

“Which was?” Oliver prodded, poking her teasingly in the side when she didn’t offer further information.

She giggled, squirming away from him, “Oh, just something about straight guys always putting engagement rings in desserts, and then I remember how worked up you were about those chocolate souffles and—”

“What? Straight guys don’t always do that.”

She shrugged. “Well, I mean, think about how many times you see that in movies. At least you didn’t try to put it in my champagne glass. Knowing me, I definitely would have found a way to choke on—”

“I’ve never seen that in a movie.”

“There’s also an entire wikihow page devoted to putting rings in desserts. Personally, I really hope you didn’t try to bake it _into_ the souffle. I mean, choking hazards aside, I _definitely_ would have cracked a tooth—”

“Okay, it is _not_ that popular of an idea.”

Felicity paused and squinted at him. “Are you offended?”

“No.”

“Oh my God, you’re offended!”

“I thought it was a really clever idea. I wanted it to be memorable.”

“Aw, Oliver, I’m sure it was very memorable.”

“And unique.”

She bit back a laugh at the sound of pouting in his voice. “And unique,” she agreed.

“And clever?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she teased before shrieking when he started tickling her in retaliation.


	26. Calloused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Oliver might play with Felicity's hair (Totally reading your earlier fics... So goooood!) what would Felicity subconsciously do to Oliver?

Oliver wondered if Felicity even realized when she was doing it. He’d always liked holding her hand. It was comforting, and he found himself regularly reaching for hers in the quiet moments: Watching TV together, sitting down for a meal, sometimes just cuddling in bed. He loved that Felicity liked to take his hand when they were walking down the street together, or standing in an elevator, or sitting in the back of her company car.

Sometimes, he would actually hold out. He’d resist the urge to take her hand just to see if she would reach for his, and she never let him down. They’d be lying on the couch together, her head pillowed on his chest, and she would find his hand and start tracing patterns on his palm, following the creases and the hard lines of his callouses. Her hands were so soft compared to his weathered ones, and without any indication that she was aware of what she was doing, Felicity often ran the pad of her thumb back and forth over the hard ridges on his fingers, as though trying to smooth them out.

It was soothing, hypnotic, in a way that made Oliver feel strangely safe and loved and peaceful, and it often lulled him to sleep in the middle of a movie, or eased the anxiousness left in the wake of a nightmare. He never commented on it, for fear that once she realized she was doing it, she might stop.


	27. Where You've Been Keeping Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Donna Smoak meeting Barry for the first time and totally thinking how cute he is. ;p

“Mom,” this is a very good friend of mine and Oliver’s: Barry Allen. Barry, meet my mom.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Smoak,” Barry said politely, extending his hand to shake Felicity’s mother’s.

“Oh please, call me Donna, Barry,” she said, delicately accepting the handshake in that perpetually flirtatious manner she had. Felicity tried not to roll her eyes. “Honey, where have you been keeping this one? He’s a _doll_.”

Barry blushed, scratching the back of his head embarrassedly, “Ah, jeez,” he said.

“Mom, he’s literally standing right there. He can hear you.”

“Well fine. Barry,” Donna said, undeterred, “where has my daughter been hiding you? Really, honey, does Oliver know about him? Because he might get jealous.”

“MOM!”

“Anyway, Felicity, Oliver briefed me on the situation,” Barry rushed, talking over both women, “Your mom will be in great hands with us.”

“Thanks, Barry,” Felicity sighed. Donna bent over to hug Felicity goodbye, knowing her daughter was in a hurry, and Felicity wheeled herself back over to the car, where Curtis was waiting for her.  
  
Meanwhile, Barry was sending a text message Oliver’s way.

**> >Dude. THIS is going to be your mother-in-law?**

Oliver **< < Just keep her out of harm’s way, Barry. **


End file.
